The Museum of Lost Things
by Ruibin Rua
Summary: He challenged her at every turn. Was the bastard capable of love? A story inspired by the Fictionista WitFit Prompts, but continued without prompts.
1. Calm Before the Storm

**I thought it would be easier to follow this particular storyline if I set it up separately. If you've been following my word prompt-inspired drabbles, then you'll probably have read the first three chapters of this.**

**I'm flying by the seat of my pants, so any words of advice are most welcome.**

**No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word Prompt: Messy**

* * *

She sat at her desk scrolling through emails and tried to ignore the creeping hands of the clock – surely it had stopped working altogether? Rose's latest temp job was the dullest yet and she had taken to counting the pinholes in the walls of her cubicle – eleven on the right side and a whopping twenty-two in the wall facing her. What did her predecessors pin to the walls? A plan of the building's emergency exits? A self-help guide to finding a better job? A do-it-yourself make-up kit to paint open eyes onto one's eyelids?

So far, Rose had resisted falling asleep and suppressed the urge to run screaming from the building; although the latter was a close-call on the afternoon she was asked to inventory the stationery cupboard and discovered a commune of spiders dwelling there. She couldn't help but wonder why on earth he even needed a personal secretary. The phone hardly ever rang and more often than not it was just someone looking for the chippers down the road (sometimes she listened to their orders before telling them that they had the wrong number). As for his day-planner, that thing had more tumbleweed blowing through it than you'd find in a John Wayne movie.

If Mr Masen wasn't the sweetest old man to ever wear a tweed jacket with elbow patches, Rose would have packed in the job and requested a re-assignment. Others in her position would have been grateful; a job like this was the equivalent of being paid to leave your brain in bed while your body went to work each day. She could catch up on reading for her thesis and had even completed a mid-term essay on a particularly slow morning, which, for Masen & Co, meant receiving no post instead of the usual special offers flyer from the local hardware store.

Even with all the perks, Rose didn't like the feeling that she was deceiving Mr Masen somehow, stealing from him. She had tried to talk to him about it, becoming perhaps the only employee on earth to ever explain why she felt her job was redundant, but he would hear none of it. He liked having her there, he said. She looked after him and he appreciated her.

She did look after him. He reminded her of her Grandpa Joe, who had died when she was a teenager. She used to visit him every afternoon after school and climb into his wide lap like an armchair. From the circle of his arms, she learned not to be frightened of the world, to open her eyes to what each day could bring.

In Rose's mind, cheating Mr Masen was like cheating her Grandpa and she didn't like that feeling one bit. She was only occupying the post for six months, but had already cleaned and re-organised every surface, including messy Majorie's desk – now there was a dead weight. In fact, if she thought about it, Mr Masen's office was like the museum of lost things. Marjorie had lost her husband and rarely made it through the workday without crying in the toilets. Brian was an ex-con who went to afternoon AA meetings three times' a week, and Megan had started working for Mr Masen when her husband ran off with the bank manager and her home was re-possessed. By comparison, Rose was the most stable employee there.

All of these things could have remained a mystery to Rose. She could have done her job for six months and then moved on without another thought. The visit of Mr Masen's son changed everything.


	2. The Arrival of Thunder

**Who said Emmett has to be a jovial teddy bear? Please don't try to picture Kellan Lutz for this – it just won't work.**

**No copyright infringement is intended. The words are mine.**

**Dialogue Flex: "That's not how you treat a lady," she said.**

**Using the provided snippet of dialogue, explore what comes to mind, be it a scene, a thought, or something else.**

**Word prompt: pique**

* * *

To say that Mr Emmett McCarty-Masen knew how to make an entrance would be an understatement. It had been pouring rain all day and the thunderstorm began around lunchtime. Rain beat against the window panes and the languorous growl of thunder surrounded the building. Rose eyed her umbrella dubiously; she wasn't relishing the walk to the bus-stop later.

She had just stepped out of Mr Masen's office, having delivered his usual afternoon break, when a man appeared. Rose knew that Mr Masen had two sons, but he wasn't the kind of man to adorn his desk with family photos, so she had no idea what they looked like. She approached the visitor warily – Marjorie must have been on another crying jag in the loos, or she would have warned her.

Emmett stood imperiously at the opening to her cubicle and thrust his dripping umbrella at her as she approached. He proceeded to strip off his gloves and sodden overcoat while Rose stood gaping before him, and she almost swallowed her tongue when he dumped his coat into her arms.

She found her voice as this, as yet unidentified stranger, made to step around her.

"Where I come from, that's not how you treat a lady," she said.

"You're not a lady, you're my father's secretary," was the less than gallant reply.

Rose stepped defiantly into his path. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and an imposing stance, but, in heels, Rose could look him straight in the eyes.

"Well, as Mr Masen's secretary, I must ask you to wait while I inform him of your arrival. I'd ask to take your coat, but…"

She raised her eyebrow mockingly and shook his umbrella slightly so that a few stray drops landed on his shiny shoes – how they looked so good after a walk in the rain was a mystery to her.

Emmett looked unconcerned as he brushed past her and took a seat in her desk chair. He rested his left leg against his right knee and gazed up at her unblinkingly.

Rose restrained her pique at his audacity and took care hanging his coat on the stand to the right of Mr Masen's door. She stood at the entrance to her cubicle and surveyed her intruder thoughtfully.

"And may I ask which of Mr Masen's sons is gracing us with his presence today?"

Again, there was a slight puckering of his lips, but the hard lines of his face remained entrenched.

"Emmett McCarty-Masen. The bastard."

Rose did a double-take at this potential double-entendre. Emmett suddenly grinned, but there was a challenging edge to his expression that put Rose on her guard.

"Please excuse me, Emmett, the bastard, while I speak to your father."

She paused just long enough to register his look of shock mingled with appreciation, before she left him sitting there.

**A/N: This little scene wouldn't leave me alone at work, but I'm afraid I have to leave it here for today.**


	3. Flip

**This scene niggled at me until I got out of bed and turned back on my laptop to write it.**

**No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word Prompt: Rush**

**Dialogue Flex: "He doesn't want to be bothered right now," she said.**

* * *

Rose stepped out of Mr Masen's office, closing the door softly behind her. Emmett swivelled around and made to stand up. Rose raised her hand in an entreaty for him to wait.

"He doesn't want to be bothered right now," she said.

Emmett landed heavily in the chair and raked his fingers roughly through his hair.

"Well, fuck."

Rose hovered beside him, uncertain what to say. All she could think of was the resigned look of disappointment on Mr Masen's face. This was the man who took on employees thrown on the rejection pile, the man who had given her a job when she turned up desperate in response to his advertisement and admitted that she couldn't continue to pay her rent without this job. Her loyalty lay with him.

And yet the sight of the cocky Emmett McCarty-Masen slumped at her desk, muttering to himself, tugged at the soft places inside her.

"Did he - Did he say anything else?"

He looked up at her with honey-brown eyes and Rose felt a rush pass through her at his gaze. Emmett McCarty looked good when he dropped the bastard act.

"He looked upset. He just said he couldn't see you today. Maybe… Maybe you can try again tomorrow?"

At her words, Emmett's face closed down. It was startling to see the transformation, as if a chink of light had been swiftly extinguished.

"I asked you what my father said. I didn't ask for your opinion. I don't think you're paid to give your opinion, are you Miss Hale?"

His words were like a slap in the face and they woke Rose from whatever spell she had been under.

"I am your father's employee, Mr McCarty. What he pays me for is none of your business."

Rose regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Emmett smirked as she flushed, satisfied that he had trapped her into an embarrassingly poor choice of words. He stood to his full height, which suddenly seemed much taller than before.

"My coat, if you please."

Rose retrieved his coat and watched silently while he donned it. He snatched his umbrella from her hand and turned to leave. Rose drew a shaky breath.

"Oh. And Miss Hale? My father doesn't pay you. I do. So what you _do_ is very much my business."


	4. Positions

**I lay no claim to Twilight ©, but this storyline is mine. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word prompt: Technology**

* * *

Monday, a few weeks later, saw Rose kneeling under her desk - with her ass in the air - trying to trace the source of a particular computer cable that she was convinced had no purpose except to ensnare her foot every time she stood up from her desk.

"Damn technology! Why does it have to be made up of so many frickin' wires and shit?"

A slight cough from somewhere above her made her scream in fright and jolt her head against the underside of her desk.

She shuffled back on her knees, right hand cradling her skull, and looked directly into the amused eyes of Emmett McCarty.

"Ms Hale."

He continued to look entertained as he held out a hand to help her to her feet. Rose debated declining, but she was feeling a little woozy and he was her boss after all. Her recollection of that fact caused a scowl to mar her features.

"Mr McCarty, thank you."

She rose to her feet as gracefully as possible and tried to brush the lint from her skirt.

"It is Mr McCarty isn't it? Or would you rather I called you Mr Masen? Or sir?"

Once again, Emmett's features seemed unable to hold a positive human emotion for long and settled back into his customary frown.

"Mr McCarty is just fine, thank you, Ms Hale. Now, if you'd be so kind as to tell my father of my arrival..."

He trailed off and looked at her expectantly. Rose felt herself bristle at his tone.

"Is Mr Masen expecting you today?"

Emmett looked annoyed at the subtle reminder of his last visit. Since his unsuccessful attempt to see his father almost a month ago, he hadn't returned to the office, and Rose had wondered if father and son had patched things up. In fact, she had found herself thinking about the asshole incarnate that was Mr Emmett McCarty far too often since that fateful afternoon.

"Yes. We agreed to meet at three o'clock and as it's now after that time, perhaps you'd be so good as to announce me?"

Rose didn't miss the accusation in his tone and resisted the urge to tell him that he should have arrived before the appointed time, if he was that anal about his time-keeping.

"Follow me, please."

She felt his gaze on her back as she tapped gently on Mr Masen's door before entering.

"Mr Masen, your son, Emmett, is here to see you."

Emmett entered the room behind her and Rose watched the exchange between father and son curiously. She didn't miss the way the father's eyes lit up at the sight of his son, but any affection between them was quickly cloaked behind stiff formalities. If Rose had to guess, she would have said that the son was especially anxious to maintain an unruffled front.

Emmett shrugged out of his coat and held it out to Rose expectantly. Again, Rose found herself biting her tongue at his imperious attitude. This man didn't just need to be brought down a peg or two; he needed to be relieved of an entire clothes-line full of pegs!

"I was just about to bring your father his afternoon break. Can I get you anything Mr McCarty?"

Rose noticed a flicker of sadness pass across Mr Masen's face, but with a tilt of his head downwards, it was gone. She winced internally when she realised that the father at least didn't view his son as a McCarty.

"If that pathetic excuse for a coffee-maker is still in use in the canteen, then no, Ms Hale. You may get me a double-shot, low-fat cappuccino from the cafe on Moore Street."

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket for his wallet and missed the look of outrage on Rose's face. She schooled her expression back into passivity, as she accepted the cash he held out to her.

"I'd also like a chocolate muffin. If there are none left, blueberry."

He turned away without so much as a please or thank you, and Rose and Mr Masen shared a look of solidarity.

"Mr Masen?"

"Just my usual pathetic excuse for coffee. Thank you, Rose."

Rose grinned delightedly at Mr Masen's response and he gifted her with a small smile, as she left his office.


	5. The Occupation

**No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word prompt: pawn**

* * *

Rose let herself warily into the building early on a Friday morning. Emmett had taken up residence at the office over the past two months and he was often there before her in the morning, tapping furiously on his laptop and barking out orders on the phone. Why he had practically set up a satellite office for himself when he owned a lavish, sprawling office in the city centre was beyond her, but she had certainly been earning her wage since his move. She arrived at work earlier and left later, and spent every hour in between running errands, typing up lengthy reports and basically acting as Emmett's lackey.

Mr Masen still came to work every day, but he spent more and more time shut up in his office and the sorrow in his eyes had become more pronounced. Rose still brought him his afternoon coffee and spent a few minutes trying to lift his spirits, but Emmett otherwise guarded her time jealously. Any moments she gave to his father involved a furious battle of wills.

The entire atmosphere of the office had been transformed by the presence of one man. Rose couldn't deny Emmett's dynamism, and his dominating presence swept through the office, lighting up the dustiest, sleepiest corners. She couldn't decide if the changes were an improvement or not, and had the distinct feeling that they were all simply pawns in a much larger game.

Brian still attended his AA meetings, but Emmett insisted that he work an hour later in the evenings to make up for it. After Marjorie headed into the loos for the third time in an hour one memorable Tuesday, Emmett actually went in after her, and they were shut up in one of the disused offices together for half an hour afterwards. Marjorie remained mute about whatever he had said to her, but the transformation had been astounding. She sniffled at her desk from time to time and arrived at work some mornings with red-rimmed eyes, but Emmett kept her so busy during the day that she didn't have time for mourning.

As for Megan, after one particularly startling outburst where she had blazed through the inner offices declaring that all men were bastards, Emmett had put her to work writing rejection letters to hopeful interns who applied to his firm. Rose shuddered to think of how such a task allowed her to excise her demons.

Two of Emmett's minions from his city centre office had also joined the team and spent their days holed up in the little-used conference room reviewing old files and settling accounts. Although unrelated, the two women bore a startling resemblance to each other, down to their siren red lipstick and the black, patent stilettos they wore each day. Emmett called them his dream team; Rose called them the creepy twins from _The Shining_.


	6. A Confession

**Hopefully this chapter will give you a clearer understanding of Mr Masen and Emmett. I must also WARN you that there are mentions here of death and suicide, although neither is dwelt upon in any detail.**

**This is a longer chapter than I usually write, but I felt this piece of the puzzle needed to left whole.**

**These words are mine and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word prompt: boredom**

* * *

Rose padded quietly through the darkened, empty reception area, navigating her way past the looming shadows of packing boxes. She couldn't believe that, just a few months' ago, she had been ready to kill someone to relieve the boredom and now she was approaching her final week of employment.

As she entered the back offices, she saw that the only light was coming from under Mr Masen's door. She knocked softly and peered around the half-open doorway.

"Mr Masen?"

"Ah, Rose! I was hoping you'd be the first to arrive."

He gave her a tired smile and rubbed his eyes distractedly. Rose looked at him more closely and noticed that he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday.

"Mr Masen, are you okay? You're here terribly early."

"Dear Rose, how sweet you are to pretend to be oblivious when you know very well I'm wearing the same clothes I was wearing yesterday!"

He laughed gently and ran his hands through his hair in a gesture eerily reminiscent of his son.

"I've been here all night, Rose. A man needs to spend his last night in the place he grew up."

"Last night? I - I don't understand, Mr Masen."

"I know you don't, Rose, and for that I am sorry. I took you aside to tell you so many times, but I could never bear to utter the words. I'd like to talk to you now though, if you'll sit with me."

Rose walked towards the chair he indicated, but then thought better of it.

"I think we could both do with some sustenance first, Mr Masen. I'll be right back."

She prepared a pot of tea in the kitchenette and arranged her freshly baked scones on a plate. She nabbed his favourite strawberry jam from the fridge - she had hidden the smaller jar inside an empty jar of gherkins to dissuade anyone else from eating it. Megan liked to eat jam directly from the jar with a spoon. When she entered with her laden tray, Mr Masen stood to clear a space on his desk.

"I'll miss this, Rose. How often have you brought in your home-made treats for me and I didn't think to properly savour the moment!"

Rose waved away his thanks with a flick of her wrist and served him.

"I rarely have anyone to bake for, Mr Masen. I'm glad to have such an appreciative consumer."

She smiled at him with a full heart and was rewarded by the appearance of his most beautiful, and rare, smile.

They were silent for some minutes, each nibbling on a scone and drawing warmth from the tea. It was an easy silence and Rose reflected on how fond of her boss she had become. For Mr Masen was her true boss. He might not pay her wages and he might be eclipsed now by his commanding son, but Mr Masen knew what it was to be a good employer in a way his son had yet to grasp.

He set his empty cup down on the tray and sighed heavily.

"My wife died almost a year ago, Rose. In fact, it will be exactly a year next Friday. We were married for thirty-five glorious years and she had trouble remembering who I was for the last five of those."

He glanced up briefly to see that Rose was following and she encouraged him to continue with a slight nod of her head.

"We raised two sons together, one of whom you already know. Jasper, our youngest, is an artist living in San Francisco. Emmett didn't join our family until he was six years' old, but my wife, Bella, loved him just the same. We had had trouble conceiving and for a time, we thought that Emmett would be our only child. Emmett, as I'm sure you've gathered, is not Bella's natural-born child.

Emmett's conception came from a time in my life when I was foolish and reckless. His mother was my teenage girlfriend and my first love. I broke up with her when I left for college and to my shame, never really thought of her again. I certainly never knew that she was pregnant when I left, nor that she had moved away from home and given birth to my son. When I did find out that she had had a baby, Emmett would have already been about two years' old and it never even crossed my mind to think that he could be mine.

When Emmett… When Emmett was six years' old, his mother committed suicide. She left a letter, addressed to me, in which she admitted that he was my son. Her parents eventually contacted me and a paternity test confirmed what I already knew to be true when I laid eyes on my son for the first time. I didn't know how Bella would react and, for a time, things were strained between us. But my wife proved that women really are the stronger sex. She stood by me and welcomed Emmett into our home, first for my sake, but then for Emmett's when she met him. He didn't speak much when he came to us and woke up every night screaming at whatever terrors visited him in his sleep. Bella just seemed to know how to comfort him and he was afraid of me, so I tried not to get in the way. I have always regretted imposing that distance between us, Rose - always regretted it."

He looked up at her with anguished eyes and shook his head sadly.

"Then, two years' later, Jasper was born and we were so overjoyed. Emmett was eight by this stage and he was a shy, sensitive boy. I worried that he'd resent Jasper, but he guarded his baby brother fiercely from day one. I discovered a new closeness with Emmett through the birth of Jasper. Bella having a baby threw everything into sharper focus somehow and Emmett's bond with Jasper allowed me to get to know him better too. When Emmett retreats from the world, Jasper is still the only one able to get through to him, but Emmett has retreated farther from us than ever before this time."

Mr Masen sighed heavily and stared at the landscape painting adorning the far wall of his office. It depicted a lone horseman riding across the plains. When he turned his gaze back to Rose, his eyes and mouth were determined.

"You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this, Rose, but I think it's important for you to understand. My son is taken with you. He won't admit it and he'll act as monstrously as possible to hide it, but I know my son and I know what a man in love looks like."

Rose spluttered and tried to interject.

"Please, Rose, just let me explain. If I can get this right, then maybe I can bring my son back.

My son bought out my company a year ago with the agreement that I'd retire once that year was up, and then he could sell the property. He might have needed to spend a week, two at the most, here to tie up loose ends and organise the storage of important documents, but he did not need to move in completely and work here full-time for the final three months!"

Mr Masen fixed Rose with a direct gaze.

"My son comes here every day to see you."

He looked at Rose earnestly and she composed her reply carefully.

"Mr Masen, forgive me, but I've seen absolutely no evidence of any admiration for me on Mr Mc - on your son's part over the past few months. At every opportunity, he has treated me with disdain, frustration, and frankly, a lack of respect. For you to say that this all stems from his love for me - I just - I can't believe that!"

Mr Masen looked at her fondly and reached across the desk to pat her hand.

"Emmett has treated you abominably, but I'm afraid he's still working under the naive schoolboy assumption that pulling a girl's hair will let her know that you like her. And please believe me, my dear, when I tell you that the Emmett you have been witness to is not the Emmett of a year ago. The loss of Bella hit him very hard and it brought back a lot of painful memories for him. It has made him question everything, Rose. Everything. He has lost two mothers in his lifetime and he doesn't know how to come to terms with that.

But the real Emmett is still buried beneath the surface. I know you've caught glimpses of it. I need you, Rose. Emmett needs you, even if he won't admit it himself yet.

Will you help me to save my son?"


	7. Seesaw

**I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I was busy writing my entry for the Fic This Gif Anonymous Entry Contest (see my list of favourite authors for the competition page) and then I suffered a particularly dry creative spell. I hope some of you are still with me!**

**You know that I'm not breaching copyright with my scribbles.**

**Word prompt: beckon**

**This chapter continues right where the last one left off, but here's a little reminder.**

_"But the real Emmett is still buried beneath the surface. I know you've caught glimpses of it. I need you, Rose. Emmett needs you, even if he won't admit it himself yet._

_Will you help me to save my son?"_

* * *

Rose opened her mouth to speak without any clear ideas about what to say to Mr Masen. She was saved from having to answer by the office door bursting open behind her. Never before had she been so relieved to see Emmett McCarty.

"Ms Hale, there you are! I've left a stack of papers on your desk to be typed and I need you to set up the equipment for my video-conference call at eleven."

When Rose didn't immediately react to his summons, Emmett beckoned imperiously, eyebrows raised, and walked out without a second glance. With that charming display of manners, Rose looked at Mr Masen somewhat forlornly and gathered the detritus from their morning snack.

"All I ask is that you think about what I've said, Rose. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you both had something worthwhile to gain."

Rose pursed her lips at this last comment, but nodded and left him with a gentle smile.

When she returned to her desk, Emmett was leaning against it, scrutinising her approach.

"I thought I made it clear that you are my employee, Ms Hale. When you arrive in this building, I expect you to begin work immediately, not spend your time gossiping and drinking tea with my father."

Rose took a deep breath, but held her cool as she breezed past Emmett and took a seat at her desk. She began organising her papers in the hope that he would leave, but he remained standing beside her. She looked up, poised to give him a deserved dressing-down, only to be silenced by the look in his eyes.

On an intellectual level, Rose could appreciate what the verb 'to smoulder' meant and she had come across the description many times in the racy novels she read at night. It wasn't a word she associated with her own humdrum life, but the look in Emmett McCarty's eyes at that moment could only be described as smouldering. All that was missing from the scene was his chest bared in a shirt open to the navel and her heaving bosom in an obscenely tight corset.

She blinked and tried to get her bearings. Was what Mr Masen said true? Was his son interested in her? Before she could analyse his expression any further, Emmett cleared his throat loudly and clenched his jaw.

"I need those letters typed before lunch, Ms Hale. You can make up the time you squandered this morning by working through your tea break."

His words were like a bucket of ice-water being poured down her spine and she watched him walk away with a heavy heart. She would have preferred the heaving bosom.


	8. Signal Fires

**These scribbles are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word prompt: bistro**

* * *

The amount of work Rose was left to deal with meant that she had to work through lunch. The incessantly ringing phone didn't help her concentration either, as she took message after message for Emmett, who had been sequestered with his evil minions since his conference call earlier.

She tried to remain focused, but the look on Emmett's face dogged her thoughts. She couldn't deny the thrill of desire that coursed through her body at the memory. In quiet moments, when she was alone and vulnerable, she thought of Emmett McCarty. It was his eyes that she dreamt of when she fell asleep at night, and his name she had cried aloud when her fingers brought her to completion. He had given her no reason to admire him, but the seed of attraction bloomed within her, almost in spite of herself.

She was on the phone ordering a cake for Mr Masen when Emmett finally emerged from the little-used boardroom. He tapped his foot impatiently while she recited her credit card number and gave directions to the firm.

"Conducting personal business on company time, Ms Hale? Really?"

"Ordering a cake for your father on his last day, Mr McCarty. Celebrating the hard work of a man dedicated to his business and his employees for the past 40 years. I'm sure even you can understand that."

Rose hated the tone of his voice and the unpleasant sneer on his face. It was amazing to her how such a handsome man could appear so ugly.

To her surprise, Emmett swallowed audibly and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Be sure to bill it to the company, Ms Hale. I'm sure my father will appreciate the gesture."

She felt uncomfortable at his gesture, but Emmett's next words reminded her that he was a man uninterested in exciting the compassion of others.

"As this is my father's last day, it should be yours also. You can finish up here today. Don't worry, I'll pay you until your contract runs out next week."

Rose clenched her fists in her lap and gritted her teeth.

"I'm perfectly happy to work until the end of next week, Mr McCarty. There is still paperwork to be sorted through and packing to be done. I am, after all, your employee."

"I have other employees more than capable of completing the job, Ms Hale. I know you like to appear indispensable, but what you're selling isn't a rare commodity."

Rose couldn't withhold her gasp at the harshness of his words. The fire that she had seen earlier in his gaze had been replaced by a cold, black wasteland of hostility. She felt her temper rising, but struggled to contain it. She stood and faced Emmett head-on.

"I understand, Mr McCarty. I'll vacate my desk by this evening."

She stared into his hard, uncompromising eyes until he was forced to look away and take a step back. In that moment, Rose knew that she was witnessing a man deliberately self-destructing and it pained her.

She offered him one final olive branch.

"Your father's cake is due to arrive in an hour and I've asked the others to stay behind to give him a proper send-off. I hope you will join us. I've ordered the cake from Frank's bistro, your father's favourite."

He met her gaze again, but his expression was unyielding.

"Actually, no. I have a prior engagement this afternoon. Goodbye Ms Hale."

He held out his hand and shook hers stiffly. Rose looked on, as if from a great distance, as Emmett McCarty walked out of the office and out of her life.


	9. Heat

**I hope I've made up, at least somewhat, for my tardiness in posting. I'd love to hear your thoughts! **

**As always, no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Word prompt: buckle**

* * *

Rose lingered at the office packing away the last of Mr Masen't things as night fell outside. The darkness pressed against the glass, moving sinuously towards the glow inside. When she looked at the clock on the wall, she caught a glimpse of her reflection; tear-tracks down her cheeks, hair falling from her once-tidy bun. She pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and taped the last box shut. When Mr Masen had asked her to clear out his desk for him, she hadn't had the heart to tell him that his son had practically fired her.

With the office now bare, the last vestiges of its previous owner's kind spirit seemed to dissipate. Rose thought again about her conversation with Mr Masen that morning and his pleas on his son's behalf. She knew now that he had been mistaken about her. She was the last woman suitable to tame Emmett McCarty. Emmett McCarty didn't want her friendship; he had made that clear from the very beginning. He may have lusted after her - a man like him no doubt had a voracious appetite - but a man with feelings could not have spoken to her the way Emmett had done earlier.

Rose kicked off her heels and leaned back against Mr Masen's desk, her legs stretched out in front of her on the carpet. She had to forget Emmett. He wasn't right for her and Rose knew that she deserved better. This rationale didn't prevent her from closing her eyes and imagining him standing in the room before her, however. She thought about the line in his forehead when he frowned in concentration, and how he tapped his right index finger against his thumb when he was deep in thought. She pictured the subtle crinkling of his eyes and the way his lips twitched when he was trying to suppress a smile. Her breath quickened when she recalled the sight of him moving boxes one afternoon, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his muscles shifting under his thin, white shirt. His hair had flopped into his eyes and she had had to sit on her hands to stop herself from brushing it back for him. A sigh escaped her as she remembered all of his shifting moods - his cruel words, his razor-sharp tongue, and his rare kindnesses.

"Ms Hale?"

Rose screamed and tried to scramble to her feet when Emmett's voice came from the doorway. She slumped back to the floor, overcome, when he began to laugh loudly and extended his hand to her upon entering the room. He pulled her to her feet, as he had done once before, but this time she was much closer to his body and he didn't release her hand. Her heart was still beating rapidly, as she tried to recover from the shock of his sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here so late, Ms Hale?"

His tone of voice was soft, almost caressing, as he stared deeply into her eyes and rubbed his thumb rhythmically across her knuckles. When Rose continued to stare at him, wide-eyed, he laughed again and pulled her closer.

"Have I actually rendered you speechless? I don't think you've ever failed to give me a reaction, Ms Hale. Even your silences burn me."

He cupped her cheek and feathered his fingers across her jawline.

"You burn me, Rose."

He pressed his lips to hers, once, twice, before gathering her to himself and teasing her mouth open with his tongue. She felt the edge of the desk behind her and steadied herself with one hand on it and the other clutching his arm. When her breath caught in her chest, Emmett's head dipped lower, nuzzling the hollow between her collar bones, tracing the line of her neck with his lips. She moaned when his fingers grazed her breasts and the buckle of his belt dug into her stomach.


	10. April Showers

**I think I annoyed quite a few people with the way I ended the last chapter. To be honest, I never even thought of it as an "evil cliffie", but I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone. It was late at night here when I posted and it just felt like the place to press pause.**

**No copyright infringement is intended. I'm not trying to be anyone but myself.**

**Word prompt: hold**

* * *

Rose's whimper as Emmett brushed his thumbs across her nipples was enough to bring her to her senses. She placed her hands on his wrists, breaking his hold and drawing his arms away from her body. Her breathing was erratic, her face flushed and her voice cracked slightly as she whispered:

"Stop."

Emmett groaned loudly and rested his forehead on her shoulder in a gesture of defeat. His proximity wasn't helping the haze of lust that still enveloped Rose. She ran her fingers through his hair and raised his head to meet her eyes. They stared at each other for an interminable minute and she knew that her message had been received when Emmett straightened to his full height and took a step back from her. She tried to contain her shudder of desire when he adjusted himself in his pants, but Emmett picked up on her sign of weakness immediately, bringing a hand back to her waist and tracing circles with his thumb.

"C'mon, Rose. We both want this. We both _need_ this."

His wheedling tone and the accompanying glint in his eye got Rose's back up. He thought she was a done deal, another woman successfully wooed at the hands of Emmett McCarty.

"You don't know the first thing about what I want."

She gripped his arm and flung it forcefully from her body. For a brief moment, she wondered how Emmett would react, if she were to hit him. If this were a classic Hollywood movie, she would have slapped him, kissed him and then slapped him again, but Rose shied away from such theatrics.

"Oh spare me the bullshit. I wasn't alone in that kiss, Rose!"

Rose laughed and winced at the slightly hysterical tinge to her laughter.

"I was Ms Hale when you questioned my intelligence on a daily basis. Ms Hale when I picked up your arrogant, pretentious asshole coffee every afternoon. Ms Hale when I ordered flowers for your flavour of the month. And I was Ms Hale earlier today when you told me to leave and practically called me a whore!

But now, I'm Rose? You think you can just stick your tongue down my throat, whisper a few pretty words and I'll what, spread my legs for you? Is that your usual MO, _Mister McCarty_? Fire 'em and bang 'em?"

"Are you quite finished, Ms Hale?"

His return to formality after so much passion was like the sound of nails on chalkboard. Rose shook her head in disgust at his cowardice. She slipped back on her shoes and gathered her purse and coat.

"Mr Masen is sending someone tomorrow to pick up those boxes. Goodbye, Mr McCarty."

She didn't wait for an answer.


	11. Rainbow

**I'm not in the business of breaching copyright laws.**

**Audio-Visual Challenge—Musical Mastery: "Breathe" by Anna Nalick:**

**www(.)youtube(.)com / watch?v=jHEj4cRhm3E**

**Listen to the sample, then write whatever comes to you first.**

* * *

After a sleepless night of pacing and muttering to herself, Rose decided what she needed was a duvet day, but after six hours of daytime TV and countless bowls of cereal, she called in reinforcements.

Heidi breezed into the apartment armed with ice-cream, vodka and DVDs.

"First off, you need to shower and get dressed. No man is worth wallowing over and certainly not one with extreme assholish tendencies."

The warm water revived Rose's spirits, but it didn't ease the ache she felt. She wasn't this girl; the kind who hung her hopes on hopeless causes. The previous guys in her life had all been smart, driven and fun - they didn't have major problems to burden her with and she had never felt the need to reveal her inner self to any of them. Something about Emmett McCarty had gotten to her. He was a mirror full of cracks, waiting to shatter, and she was the poor fool armed with duct tape.

Heidi was curled up on the couch with two steaming mugs of coffee waiting.

"I thought we'd get the serious conversation out of the way before I broke out the vodka."

Rose sighed heavily and settled her head in her best friend's lap. She had met Heidi five years when they were both in their first year of college. Back then, Rose was timid and closed off, the palette of grey in contrast to Heidi's kaleidoscopic rainbow. Over the years, Rose had grown up and come out of her shell, and Heidi had mellowed, ditching the party-girl image. To casual observers, they didn't make sense, but they both knew that, together, they could peel back the layers and just be.

"How are you feeling after last night? Still angry?"

Rose smiled half-heartedly, remembering her ranting phone call to Heidi after leaving the office.

"It hurts. He's treated me like shit the past few months and I should hate him for it. I should want to run as far away from him as I can. But - I've never felt alive the way I feel with him, Heidi. He's infuriating and confusing and sometimes he's so bloody cruel, but he makes me _feel_."

She sat up abruptly and turned to her friend.

"Am I crazy? Am I one of those women who automatically picks out the broken guy and makes it her mission to fix him? Do I like hurting myself?"

Heidi grasped her hand and cradled it between both of her own.

"Sweetie, you're not crazy. You're in love."

Rose scoffed and shook her head impatiently.

"I can't be. I can't be in love with a man who abuses me. I mean - What does that say about me? I can't be his punching bag, Heidi. I won't!"

"I'm glad to hear that. If he treats you like shit, then you should walk away right now. But by the look on your face, you don't want to hear me say that. I won't lie, Ro. I'm worried. I don't want to see you get hurt and this guy, he's going to hurt you. But I think it's too late to say 'fuck him' and move on. I know you, Rosalie Hale. I've watched you date some nice boys, but your heart has never been touched by any of them."

"Now you're making me sound like a cold bitch."

"No. I'm saying that you've been settling. These past few months? You've been different. More feisty, confident. This guy, he's good for you. He challenges you. I think you owe it to yourself to pursue this. To at least talk it out with him. Don't take any bullshit, but don't close yourself off either."

Rose lay back down on the couch and closed her eyes, as Heidi ran her fingers through her hair and let her ponder.

"I want him, Heidi. I'm not ready to walk away yet."


	12. Offerings

**The chapters for this story are going to be predominantly short and probably under 500 words. Please, try to be patient with me as I tell this story my way.**

**No copyright infringement is intended. They're Emmett and Rose, but I don't think SM would claim them.**

**Word prompt: spritz**

* * *

After a serious talking-to and a night spent inhaling double-chocolate ice-cream, doing vodka shots and watching crappy movies, Rose felt ready to tackle the following day head-on. She wasn't going to let the issue with Emmett get her down. She had a dissertation to complete and just two months in which to do it in. She couldn't let her life go to pieces over a guy.

Her resolve was somewhat weakened when she stepped out of her apartment to find a beautiful vase of flowers on the floor beside her door. She crouched down to pick it up, inhaling the fresh, sweet scent of peonies as she did so. She ripped open the envelope attached and pulled out a handwritten card.

_Rose, I'm sorry about what happened the other night. Please allow me to take you out to dinner tonight and explain. Emmett_

She traced the letters with her finger. The indentations on the card were deep, the words written with a sure hand. She had seen Emmett's handwriting often enough to know that it was his. Did that mean he had been here himself? Her head swivelled towards the door, as she imagined him standing there, just beyond her reach. Maybe while she was still sleeping. For some reason, the thought made her feel warm inside.

Dinner tonight - was that such a good idea? She thought about seeing him again after what had passed between them. Was she ready for that? She pulled out her phone.

_Thank you for the flowers - they're beautiful. I can't do dinner tonight, but what about a coffee after work? Rose_

His response was almost instantaneous.

_Glad you like them. Okay, coffee it is. Frank's bistro? :-)_

She smiled at the mention of his father's favourite spot. Frank's was an institution in that part of the city with the best home bakery. As for the smiley, she wouldn't have pegged Emmett for the type to use them in his text messages. Could she tease him about that? Not yet.

Se_e you there at six. Rose_

~TMoLT~

She lingered before the mirror, examining her outfit. Emmett had only ever seen her in work attire and she wanted to look nice. Nice, but not over-the-top for coffee after work.

She squirted a spritz of her favourite perfume behind each ear and smoothed her collar. Jeans and a floaty top seemed appropriate for their first non-work meeting. Or was it a date? He hadn't asked her out, but the fact that he had originally suggested had to be a good sign. Rose looked again at the flowers adorning her window sill and they gave her the confidence to leave.

**A/N: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank those of you who are reading, adding my story to alerts and taking the time to review. I really appreciate each and every one of you. I hope you'll stick with me on this journey. Hejsjzyzbz - you weren't logged in when you reviewed, so thank you so much for that! Ruby x**


	13. Understanding

**I was going to save this, but then I decided treat you to one more for today.**

**I don't own anything worth copyrighting and I'm not stealing anyone else's work either.**

**Word prompt: motor**

* * *

Emmett was inside at a table by the window when Rose arrived. He stood as she approached. She laughed in surprise at the gesture and he looked at her in confusion.

"Do men actually still do that? Stand up when a woman is standing?"

"My mum insisted on her sons having good manners."

Rose couldn't suppress the sceptical expression on her face.

"I guess I haven't always lived up to her hopes on that."

The sheepish look on his face was one she had never seen before and Rose wasn't quite sure how to handle it. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down, looking somewhat awkwardly across the table at him. There was a beat of silence before she broke it.

"I… Thanks again for the flowers, Mr Mc… I mean Emmett! Huh - I've never actually called you Emmett to your face before."

Emmett blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Just another thing for me to be sorry for. Rose, I -"

They were interrupted by the waitress coming to take their order. Rose smiled when they both ordered the chocolate cake. She looked at him expectantly when they were alone again. He had reached out to her and she needed to hear what he was thinking.

"Rose, I have so much I need to say to you. I'm so sorry about what happened on Thursday night. I got carried away and I- I can't believe I attacked you like that."

They stared at one another until a motorbike roaring to life outside the window broke the spell. The waitress arrived with their coffees and cake, prolonging what Rose felt to be a much-needed distraction.

"Emmett, you've been horrible to me since the first moment we met. The other night was just the culmination of some truly fucked-up behaviour."

She paused as he winced and looked down at the table.

"I don't know what we have between us. The other night, I think it came from a messed up place, but I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't enjoy it. I don't even know if you're interested in there being an us, but I want you to know that I'm in. I- want to be your friend. I want to know you."

Rose reached across the table and tentatively touched the back of Emmett's hand. He flipped his hand over and cradled her fingertips in his palm.

"Rose, I'm not the guy who talks about his feelings. I've been feeling like shit these past few months and my mum… My mum dying…"

He blew out a gust of air and tried in vain to smile at her.

"See why I don't talk about my feelings? Yeah, so. I'm an asshole on a good day. I'm a tough boss and I don't take any crap from anyone. But something about you… I just… I was attracted to you from the start. And I didn't know how to deal with that, so I - didn't. But I know I crossed the line with you - many times. You didn't just take my crap like everyone else. You stood up to me and you gave it back as good as you got it. I guess I never considered how much it was hurting you. How much I was hurting you. And I'm sorry for that. I'm so sorry. I don't regret what happened between us that night, but I do regret _how_ it happened."

"For a man that doesn't like talking about his feelings, I think you did a pretty good job. And, in a way, you're right. I didn't discourage you. You infuriated me and sometimes it hurt, but I didn't complain and I knew how to punch back. But I'm not naive, Emmett. You can't hold that much anger and pain inside of you and then expect me to believe that it's miraculously disappeared."

He gazed at her with that soft, liquid look in his eyes and spoke in a strained whisper.

"It hasn't disappeared. But it's easier with you here."


	14. Beyond the Wall

**Hi everyone! I can't tell you how sorry I am not to have updated sooner. I'm going through a pretty stressful and busy time in my life, with lots of changes on the horizon, and neither my mood nor my schedule has been very conducive to writing lately. I will update when I can and I sincerely promise to finish this story. I don't envisage it going beyond 20 chapters, but I'll see where the words take me.**

* * *

Friday evening two weeks later saw Rose ringing the doorbell of Emmett's house and tucking her hair nervously behind her ears. Between the long hours she spent writing her thesis and Emmett's workaholic schedule, they hadn't had a chance to meet since their first coffee date. There had been a few texts and emails and one painfully awkward phone conversation since then, but Rose couldn't help wondering if they'd have to start back at the very beginning.

She blinked in surprise when an enthusiastic Emmett opened the door in jeans and t-shirt - she'd never seen him out of a suit - and beamed as he ushered her inside.

"Rose - hey! I'm so glad you could make it. Please, come in."

He stepped back to allow her into the hallway where Rose hovered uncertainly and tried not to crush the bunch of flowers in her hand. Should she kiss him? Hug him? Shake his hand? Emmett decided the matter for her when he placed a hand on her shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. He slid his hand down to her wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

"Dinner is almost ready, but I need to warn you about the state of the place. I'm renovating it myself, so only a few of the rooms are finished. The kitchen, bathroom and master bedroom are all complete, but the rest of house is still pretty bare. I apologise in advance for any paint cans or ladders you find lying around."

He led her towards the kitchen as he spoke, passing a large sitting-room on the right that was empty save for an old, stone fireplace, a beaten-up couch and a TV.

"You said you're renovating it yourself. Are you serious? You've done all this?"

Rose couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice, as she surveyed the warm and inviting kitchen kitted out in cherry wood, granite counter-tops and every high-tech kitchen gizmo imaginable.

Emmett chuckled. "Not everything - I know my limitations. A friend of mine designed and fitted the kitchen units and I obviously hire professionals for all the wiring and plumbing. But I tiled the walls and floor myself and I do all the painting, of course."

He trailed off and smirked at the incredulous look on Rose's face.

"I wasn't born in a suit, Rose. I like to work with my hands. I'm rebuilding this house from the ground up and I want to do as much of the work on it myself as I can."

"You want to earn it." Rose observed. Emmett acknowledged the truth of her words by dipping his head bashfully.

It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. As he pulled out a stool for her at the centre-island and moved about confidently, putting the finishing touches to their meal, Rose suspected that this was a side to Emmett that people rarely saw. For some reason, he had dropped his walls for her and she wanted to demolish them entirely in time. It was time to stop expecting Emmett to behave a certain way and maybe destroy a few walls of her own as well.


	15. Gift the Moon

**I hope Emmett doesn't come off sounding too preachy in the first part of this chapter. I'm trying to make my characters individuals and that means making them say and do things with which I might not necessarily agree.**

* * *

Rose laid down her fork with a satisfied sigh.

"Emmett, that chicken casserole was amazing! I haven't eaten a meal like that in months."

Emmett smiled teasingly and eyed her over the rim of his wineglass.

"You can stop sounding so surprised now, Ms Hale. Just what kind of man did you take me for?"

Rose shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but met his gaze directly.

"The spoiled, privileged kind, to be perfectly honest. I went to college with plenty of guys like you, Emmett, and none of them would have invited me to their house for a home-cooked meal. None of them would have bought a house like this either. They all live in cardboard cut-out townhouses and luxury apartments with price tags to match their postcodes."

"I didn't take you for the prejudiced kind, Rose."

"That's just it. I wasn't. When I moved here, I was the most unbiased girl you could find. I firmly believed that money had nothing to do with a person's personality. I thought it made no difference who your family was, where you came from."

"But now?"

"Now? I just don't know anymore. I still don't care about a person's bank balance. And I try not to be judgemental. But - it's hard not to be predisposed to be wary. College was a rude awakening for a girl like me and there were plenty of people who treated me a certain way because of what I didn't have, rather than what I did."

Emmett traced his fingers lightly across her knuckles and Rose was amazed at how enticing this barest of touches could be.

"I can't criticise you for what you feel. I've both resented and desired money all my life. Now, I'm lucky enough to have a job where worrying about money isn't something I have to do anymore, but my father never handed us everything gratis and he taught us to work for what we have. I have friends with both more and less cash than I do. Friends who have fought for everything they own and friends who don't know what it is to question the price of anything. They want, therefore they have. It doesn't make them assholes. It's just their reality. Those people who judged you for your lack of wealth, or status, or whatever - they're the assholes. Some of them will grow out of it and those that don't aren't worth your time. But there's a prejudice against the rich too. The idea that, because we come from wealthy families, we can't have talents or achievements of our own. Don't let your experiences make you bitter and close you off to others, Rose. Trust me, I know more about that than I would wish to."

Rose stared at Emmett, slightly mesmerised by the passionate, earnest man sitting before her, caressing her hand. Emmett stood up suddenly, startling her.

"Come on. There's something I want to show you."

He grasped her hand firmly, leading her back out into the hallway and up the stairs. He opened the door to a tiny box-room at the back of the house and guided her inside with only the moonlight to show her the way. He paused in front of the curtain-less window where a magnificent telescope was set up.

"I set this up earlier, before you arrived, but I just need to check it first."

He made some adjustments, spinning the various knobs and dials with enviable skill, before stepping back and ushering Rose forward. She bent down cautiously and peered through the lens. As her vision steadied, the moon came into view. Emmett took her right hand in his and guided it to one of the dials.

"Use this dial to adjust the focus. The best time to look at the moon is during first and last quarter, but I thought you might appreciate it now. There was a new moon yesterday morning."

Rose adjusted the focus slightly and gazed skyward. Emmett stood quietly beside her, meeting her unspoken need for silence. It was the first time Rose had ever looked through a telescope and she was in awe of the detail before her; the troughs and peaks on a surface that appeared so flawless. After a few minutes, she straightened to her full height and grinned at Emmett excitedly.

"This is amazing. I can't believe you own a telescope. Do you know much about astronomy?"

Emmett smiled at her obvious delight.

"My mum bought me a telescope for my first Christmas with her and my dad. She used to take me into her lap every night before bed and point out all the constellations, but I always loved the moon best of all. She gave me this beauty as a house-warming gift before she died."

Rose didn't try to stop the tears that welled up in her eyes without warning and trickled slowly down her cheeks. She cupped Emmett's face between her palms and, raising herself on tip-toe, pressed all she was feeling into his mouth with her kiss.

* * *

**A/N: Listen to The Nearness of You by Norah Jones**


	16. Hurdles

**I know some of you will be disappointed by this chapter, but given how this story came about, I couldn't turn Emmett into a prince overnight. Please read my A/N at the end.**

* * *

_Rose, I'm really sorry, but I can't make dinner tonight. I'll call you soon. Emmett_

Rose stared contemplatively at the message she had received and cast her gaze around her small apartment. Her eyes alighted on the wobbly table with a textbook shoved under it to balance out the shortest leg, the matching candles winking mockingly. She thought of the expensive steaks marinating in the fridge and the vegetables chopped and ready for roasting in the oven.

She had just stepped out of the shower and begun to dry her hair when his message came through. The anxious coil that had been tightening in her gut all week doubled in intensity. After the wonderful time they had shared together on Friday night, she had both feared and expected something like this. It had all been just a little too perfect; Emmett relaxed and open just a little too soon.

After the kiss they had shared in the glow of the moon, he had driven her home, walked her to her door and kissed her goodnight. He was still tender and attentive, but Rose had noticed the subtle signs of tension gathering in the corners of his eyes and the strong set of his jaw. She lay awake that night, savouring the memory of his lips on hers and the hunger for him that danced just below the surface.

The next day, an exquisite bouquet of flowers was delivered to her apartment - roses the colour of rich cream and delicate, blush coloured blossoms. Two words were scrawled on the card that accompanied the arrangement: _Thank you_. The relief that had flared upon its arrival mixed with a sense of unease. How could he send her such a beautiful gift and make it sound like goodbye?

She rang to thank him for the flowers, but the call was brief and stilted. He said he was at work and had a busy week ahead of him. Rose would have believed him if not for the distinct clink of silverware in the background. She should have called him out on his deceit, but hadn't wanted to argue over the phone.

She glanced at the message again and swallowed the hurt that threatened to engulf her. She hadn't expected the path to be a smooth one. She had gone into this with the knowledge that Emmett could hurt her very badly, that he was lost and alone and fighting to stay afloat. She recognised his actions for what they were, an attempt to protect himself, and her, by distancing himself. He thought that if he hurt her now, she'd give up, and they could just go on as before. She had to show him that she was stronger than that.

She allowed herself a moment of wallowing, a moment to shed a few tears and wish for things to be simpler. Then she stood up and began to prepare dinner.

* * *

**A/N: Someone left me a lovely anonymous review for the previous chapter, so I want to say thank you to whomever that was. The fact that they called me Miss Ruby makes me think they're someone I know. Maybe you just forgot to sign in? I've done that a few times already due to the new review format.**

**On to some housekeeping: I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story. I debated whether to even post this chapter, as it leaves things on something of a sour note. Lately, I've been suffering a mixture of poor inspiration and a very busy schedule. There's one more chapter to follow this one, but that's probably it for a while. I'm moving to England next week and it's bound to be a bit crazy for me in the beginning. Please bear with me and I hope you won't abandon this story. Ruby x**


	17. Guard Duty

**We're not out of the woods yet. **

* * *

The taxi came to a halt in front of a darkened house.

"Do you want me to wait for ya, love? It looks like nobody's home."

Rose cast an anxious glance out the window of the car, but decided to follow her gut.

"No, thank you. I'm sure I'll be fine."

She wasn't as convinced as she had made out, as she watched the car's tail-lights disappear into the inky night. Instinct had told her that Emmett was lying and that same instinct had told her that he was sitting at home, wallowing. There was a strong chance that her instinct was very wrong, but Rose climbed the steps to his front door nonetheless.

The sound of the doorbell seemed to take on a mocking note, as Rose shivered on the doorstep, juggling a large picnic hamper filled with the beginnings of dinner. She pushed the bell again, counting silently in her head. After twenty beats, her disappointment was set to overflow when a light flickered on in the hall.

A quick breath to steady her nerves and Emmett was standing before her in rolled-up shirtsleeves, bare feet and tousled hair. If the situation hadn't been so tense, Rose would have laughed at the sight of his eyes visibly widening. No words were exchanged as he stood aside to allow her entry. Hitching up her nerve along with the hamper of food, she stepped down the hall in the direction of the kitchen.

When she placed the basket on the counter and turned around, he was hovering uncertainly in the doorway, as if _he_ were the intruder.

"Since you couldn't make dinner, I thought I'd bring dinner to you. I have all this food and no one to eat it and I knew you'd be hungry after a hard week at work, so…"

She trailed off at the bleak look in his eyes and strode purposefully towards him. She caught his clenched fists between her palms; they were cold and clammy.

"I know you thought you'd just have to lie to me and fuck me over once or twice before I'd run for the hills, but you seriously underestimated who you're dealing with. Why Emmett? Why is happiness for everyone else except for you?"

He laughed bitterly and drew his hands from her grasp. Spinning on his heel, he almost ran towards the sitting-room and Rose followed with a sigh. The walls that had so obligingly begun to crumble the other night had been built back up and reinforced with armed guards. She found him sprawled across the couch in the as-yet-unfinished room and took a seat on the coffee table facing him. His words and their accompanying hard stare pierced her fragile self-confidence.

"What makes you think I wanted you to come after me? The other night was sweet and all, but I don't do sweet, Rose. I'm not interested in a come-to-Jesus relationship with you. I don't need you to make me your pet project and I can get what I want without all this bullshit. You wasted your time coming here tonight."

He swallowed heavily at the stricken look on her face and averted his gaze. The bastard Emmett was back with a vengeance and Rose wondered for a moment why she was subjecting herself to this. Only memories of the softness in his face when he spoke of his mother and the sure way he had cradled her in his arms while they kissed could make her keep her seat.

"You only had to add 'Ms Hale' to the end of that diatribe and we could have been back at work."

She knew she had scored a hit by the flare of his nostrils and the subtle tightening of his shoulders.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to cry? To throw myself upon you and beg you not to cast me aside? Tell me Emmett: are you a sadist, or do you just like to intimidate women with your dick every once in a while? Because if that's all you're packing, then I fail to be impressed."

"If I wanted to impress you, Ms Hale, then you wouldn't be talking right now. I didn't think you were the type to beg for it, but by all means, get on your knees. The view can't be any worse than the one I'm being subjected to now."

The fingers on Rose's right hand twitched with the urge to hit him, but she knew they wouldn't get anywhere if they spent the night trading insults like this. Emmett was a master at hiding his true emotions behind his cruelty and she didn't intend to be his sparring partner. She only saw one way to pierce his facade and she gambled her dignity on taking it. Balancing herself on the edge of the coffee table, she lowered herself to kneel before Emmett. His shaky exhale told her that she had gotten through to him at last.

* * *

**A/N: Please don't hate me for leaving it here. I actually wrote the last two chapters about a month ago, but refrained from posting them in the hope that I'd have a happier conclusion to this. I'm still struggling somewhat with my vision for this story and I honestly don't have the space in my brain to work on it right now. I hope you'll stick with me and I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please review! **


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